When the wind is at rest and the weather is fair,
And the holy gem of heaven is shining,
And clouds have flown and the forces of water
185 Are standing stilled, and the storms are all
Assuaged and soothed: from the south there gleameth
The warm weather-candle, welcomed by men.
In the boughs the bird then buildeth its home,
Beginneth its nest; great is its need
190 To work in haste, with the highest wisdom,
That his old age he may give to gain new life,
A fair young spirit. Then far and near,
He gathers together to his goodly home
The winsomest herbs and the wood's sweet blossoms,
195 The fair perfumes and fragrant shoots
Which were placed in the world by the wondrous Lord,
By the Father of all, on the face of the earth,
As a pleasure forever to the proud race of men--
The beauty of blossoms. There he beareth away
200 To that royal tree the richest of treasure.
There the wild fowl in the waste land
On the highest beams buildeth his house,
On the loftiest limbs, and he liveth there
In that upper room; on all sides he surrounds
205 In that shade unbroken his body and wings
With blessed fragrance and fairest of blooms,
The most gorgeous of green things that grow on the earth.
He awaiteth his journey when the gem of heaven
In the summer season, the sun at its hottest,
210 Shineth over the shade and shapeth its destiny,
Gazeth over the world. Then it groweth warm,
His house becomes heated by the heavenly gleam;
The herbs wax hot; the house steameth
With the sweetest of savors; in the sweltering heat,
215 In the furious flame, the fowl with his nest
Is embraced by the bale-fire; then burning seizeth
The disheartened one's house; in hot haste riseth
The fallow flame, and the Phoenix it reacheth,
In fullness of age. Then the fire eateth,
220 Burneth the body, while borne is the soul,
The fated one's spirit, where flesh and bone
Shall burn in the blaze. But it is born anew,
Attaineth new life at the time allotted.
When the ashes again begin to assemble,
225 To fall in a heap when the fire is spent,
To cling in a mass, then clean becometh
That bright abode-- burnt by the fire
The home of the bird. When the body is cold
And its frame is shattered and the fire slumbers
230 In the funeral flame, then is found the likeness
Of an apple that newly in the ashes appeareth,
And waxeth into a worm wondrously fair,
As if out from an egg it had opened its way,
Shining from the shell. In the shade it groweth,
235 Till at first it is formed like a fledgling eagle,
A fair young fowl; then further still
It increaseth in stature, till in strength it is like
To a full-grown eagle, and after that
With feathers fair as at first it was,
240 Brightly blooming. Then the bird grows strong,
Regains its brightness and is born again,
Sundered from sin, somewhat as if
One should fetch in food, the fruits of the earth,
Should haul it home at harvest time,
245 The fairest of corn ere the frosts shall come
At the time of reaping, lest the rain in showers
Strike down and destroy it; a stay they have ready
A feast of food, when frost and snow
With their mighty coursing cover the earth
250 In winter weeds; the wealth of man
From those fair fruits shall flourish again
Through the nature of grain, which now in the ground
Is sown as clear seed; then the sun's warm rays
In time of spring sprouts the life germ,
255 Awakes the world's riches so that wondrous fruits,
The treasures of earth, by their own kind
Are brought forth again: that bird changeth likewise,
Old in his years, to youth again,
With fair new flesh; no food nor meat
260 He eateth on the earth save only a taste
Of fine honey-dew which falleth often
In the middle of night; the noble fowl
Thus feedeth and groweth till he flieth again
To his own domain, to his ancient dwelling.